


Mittens, Dude!

by madryn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Knitting, Fluff, High School, M/M, Side Allison/Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madryn/pseuds/madryn
Summary: Derek Hale knits a pair of mittens.Stiles is determined to appreciate Derek.A feel-good ficlet.





	Mittens, Dude!

**Author's Note:**

> I have been in my Sterek feels lately, so here’s this short ficlet I wrote in twenty minutes. 
> 
> Unbeta’d, unedited. All mistakes are my own.

It was a cold day.

Well, the phrase “a cold day” is rather subjective to the climate of where you live, but compared to the general temperature of California - really fucking hot - it was a cold day. Especially to Stiles, who was easily susceptible to the cold. Although Scott was getting around fine in his dark jeans and faded t-shirt, Stiles was still feeling the effects of the sharp winds underneath his flannel and sweatshirt combination.

It was worse for Stiles, too, that his friend group insisted on sitting outside during lunch even during the worst of California weather. 

(Which, admittedly, was not very bad, but his point was still valid, damn it!)

This led to his current predicament: freezing his ass off and he angrily stared across the quad at another group of students who frequented the area. More specifically, at the tall, dark-haired teenager who was too damn cute for his own good, damn it.

“He has a lot of fucking nerve wearing that sweater,” Stiles growled, glowering at the ground to avoid the sight of Derek Hale wearing a maroon sweater with thumb holes. 

Lydia rolled her eyes at his antics, before daintily sipping her large hot chocolate, which was gifted to her with a soft smile and a kiss from her girlfriend Allison, “Imagine if he had the nerve to actually, I don’t know, being walking over here right now.”

“What!” Stiles exclaimed, quickly shooting up out of his slouched position with wide, deer-in-highlight eyes. The speck that was once Derek was now much, much larger; it was a testament to show how much closer the boy was to Stiles then he originally had been. “Oh my God, why is he walking over here?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Lydia smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she coyly turned back to where Allison and Kira were arguing the merits of thigh holsters versus calf ones in a friendly debate. 

Stiles’s friend group seemed to all be suddenly preoccupied in conversations as the crunching of frosted grass grew louder. Stiles himself pretending to be preoccupied with something on his phone, until Derek stopped close enough to him that Stiles could see the older boy’s black boots in his sight.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek spoke quietly, his lips quirked at the corner and his eyes bright; he truly was beautiful and it totally was not fair for Stiles’s sanity that any one person could simultaneously be so conventionally gorgeous and so incredibly honest and kind. 

“Hey, dude, what’s up? Something important bring you to la mesa de Stilinski?” Stiles was totally blushing, damn it. He couldn’t just speak in front of the most adorable person to ever grace the world, okay? Derek was too precious for babbling. Maybe. Stiles could babble forever about Derek’s eyes, though. 

“Actually, uh, I don’t know if you would consider it important, but, uh. Here.” Derek stuttered out, a flurry of movement as he swung his backpack to the front of his body in order to unzip it. He was blushing a bright red, high on his cheeks, perfectly accentuating his cheekbones; of course Derek would blush prettily. What isn’t pretty about Derek Hale? 

Stiles blinked back into focus as Derek thrusted a... something into Stiles’s hands. The object, albeit lumpy, was incredibly soft to the touch and rather thick. Bright orange and royal blue; the colors of Stiles’s favorite baseball team. 

“Uh,” he said, eloquently.

“I know they aren’t very well done, sorry! But, I noticed that you get cold really easily, and that you are always rubbing your hands together? So, I figured that you might like a pair of mittens to keep them warm. But, I didn’t know what color to make them, so I just made them the Mets colors. Sorry.” Derek blurted out in a very Stiles-esque manner. Not waiting for a reply from said teenager, Derek quickly turned away from the table and, for lack of better words, fled back to his own group of friends. 

“Uh,” Stiles repeated. “What?”

He turned with wide eyes to his friends, who were staring at Stiles as if he was purposefully obtuse.

“Your crush just gave you mittens that he knitted himself, Stiles,” Allison started, “and you’re sitting here, with us, instead of talking to him.”

Stiles blushed, blotchy and bright red. He slammed his hand on the table, before standing up determinedly, “That’s it. I’m going to fight him for being so adorable.”

“No,” Scott corrected. “You are not going to fight him. You are going to go over there and asking Derek on a date.”

“I’m going to ask him on a date, because he is too fucking precious and I need to protect him.” Stiles asserted, narrowing his eyes as he aggressively tugged on his new mittens. Throwing his backpack on, Stiles quickly trudged across the cold, damp grass of the quad to get to where Derek was seated with his back to Stiles.

When he got close, Stiles watched as Erica recognized his presence, nudging Boyd with raised eyebrows. He was on a mission, however, and paid her no mind as he tapped on Derek’s shoulder.

Derek turned his upper body to look at who was attempting to get his attention, before starting in surprise when he realized that the who was, in fact, Stiles, “what are you doi-”

“I am going to romance the shit out of you, Derek Hale. We are going to go on a cute ass date that will totally blow your socks off and make you feel appreciated, because that’s what you deserve!” Thinking better of his rather demanding approach, Stiles continued with, “unless you say no, of course. But, I mean- you knitted me mittens, dude. You can’t ‘no homo’ me now: mittens!” 

Stiles took in a deep breath, before continuing, “besides, you totally like me back. Like, first of all, mittens. Second of all, you let me borrow a pencil like every AP Chem period! You never give anyone else a pencil! And they ask! I can hear them!”

“Stiles,” Derek laughed, cutting off the younger boy’s rant. “Of course I like you back. I don’t learn how to knit for just anyone, you know.”

“Oh my God. You learned how to knit for me? That’s it. We are skipping the whole dating thing. We’re getting married right now.” Stiles asserted, going as far as to drop to a knee next to where Derek was sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the cement beside his group’s table.

Derek’s smile was bright and nearly-overwhelming in its entirety, but it was totally worth it to see his bunny teeth on display for the world to see, all because of Stiles.

“I’ll settle for a kiss, but you aren’t getting out of wowing my pants off for a first date.” Derek’s smirk was honestly adorable. Stiles was in love, probably. 

Stiles’s train of thought was interrupted, however, as Derek’s big, soft hands cradled his jaw and brought him in for a quick, dry kiss. Stiles unconsciously followed Derek as he moved back, but Derek’s hands stopped him from going too far.

“We’ll see how the first date goes,” he smiled.

Yeah, Stiles was definitely going to woo the fuck out of Derek Hale.


End file.
